We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. The blaze, however, was sufficient to reveal to the thief-taker the features of his intended assassin. “I can say no more. You seem to want this chap out of Canton. Here you only waste your time. ” “I promise,” he answered heartily.
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